Best Writer On Wattpad Entries

One

Task: Write a story based off of the title given. The title is 'One'

We are the marked ones. We are the the gifted. We are what no one wants to believe in, what everyone is scared of.

And we are the last of our kind.

Marked by fate and by destiny, we have been chosen to complete one simple task: Survive. Survive what They have sent after us. The Shadowless. The Godless. Survive, They said, And we might let you live.

And so I must, and I so will. Or at least, I will try.

***

I never expected this. It hit me like a the full force winds of a hurricane. It started with the mark. It was the middle of the night when it appeared, the pain making me cry out and sit bolt upright in my bed. The strange image burned itself into the skin of my palm with the pain of searing flesh and bright white fire that started to lick at the edges of my sheets as it spread out over my fingers, until my whole hand was alight. The flames leaped and danced, my fiery hand lighting up the room and leaving shadows dancing along my walls.

"Extinguish," I whispered to the dancing flames, and they died away, leaving nothing but the mark on my palm that glowed with a dying light like hot coals. Slowly, the light from that also died, and I was swamped in darkness.

I thought it was all just one hell of a crazy dream, so of course I did the sensible thing: I lay back down and closed my eyes again. The next morning dawned sunny and warm, and I opened my eyes to the birds twittering away at my window. I started to stretch, but when my eyes caught black mark on my palm my illusion of the dream was shattered. It had all been real. All of it.

In complete and utter fascination, I traced the mark with one finger, making sure it was actually real, and I wasn't still dreaming. Real. Had the fire been a dream?

"Blaze," I whispered, and my hand once more spread with white hot flames that flickered in the early morning light. Strangely, they didn't hurt me. I didn't feel even warm in the slightest. Real. Every last bit of it, and it was amazing.

***

That had been a year ago. Since then, I had been on the run, living off the land with five other people, all of which had the mark. Each of us had a different power, given to us by the heavens and passed down through the mark. Aspen was tall and green-eyed, with long brown hair. Her mark was the symbol of earth, ever changing but ever immovable. Talon was dark-haired and grey-eyed, shorter than Aspen. His mark was the symbol of air, always moving, always cold and icy. Brook was shorter than all of us, thin and pretty with bright blue eyes and long blonde hair. Her mark was the symbol of water, ever flowing wild and free. Summer was short and thin, long black hair tied in a braid cascading down one shoulder with the ends dip-dyed purple, dark eyes that always seemed to smile. Her symbol was the symbol of light, bright and happy and shining all around us. And the last of us, Oliver, had short sandy blond hair and sparkling blue-grey eyes, flecked with hazel. His mark was the symbol of darkness, mysterious and fascinating but dangerous and shadowed, so very different from his loving self. Each of us had a telepathic connection to the others, communicating through our thoughts.

Light, Dark, Water, Air, Earth, and Fire. Fitting, isn't it? The six elements, all together... And fighting for our lives.

***

Run, run and don't stop until you reach the river!

Summer's words broke through my thoughts, and I shot her a thumbs up to show that I had heard. They were after us again; Shot after shot rang through the forest as they chased us, running us into the ground, stretching us to he breaking point and gunning us down one by one. They tried. They tried hard, but we fought back harder. Our motivation was stronger, so much stronger. All They had was guns and fear, but what we had was determination. We were fighting for our lives, and we would fight to the last breath.